


Fragrant Tea

by Writing-Classic-Rock (writingfanfic)



Category: Tom Petty (Musician)
Genre: Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 16:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14814680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Classic-Rock
Summary: For the prompt: 'Tom Petty comforting the reader after an impossibly hard day at work/in general'What we all need, really.





	Fragrant Tea

The door clicks, and you don’t even move – you wait as shoes stamp on the mat, and then you hear the rustle of a coat hanging up, and as the footsteps come to outside the living room door, you flail one arm.

“…babe, I shouldn’t ask any more ‘cause this isn’t the first time, but are you okay?”

“Mmmph,” you reply into the pillow, and the footsteps retreat into the kitchen. You hear clattering, and some suspect sounds including a faint and quiet swear; then the kitchen door squeals, and feet pad across the carpet as something is placed on the table next to your head. You smell fragrant tea, and then he sits next to you, fingers playing with your hair gently.

“Tell me all about it, baby.”

“You ever go to work, and then just… die? Inside?”

“No, baby.” He sighs. “Quit that stupid job, okay. I think I’m making enough money.” You shake your head. “Babe, is it really so important to you-” He pauses, and sighs. “I know. You need your own space. Been here, danced this, sweetheart.”

“I just need… I need to prove I am something without you.” You push your head up, and he gently strokes your cheek. “However, that thing is a wreck. I hate my job, Tom.”

“Then quit. And find a new one. You can do it. If anyone can, baby, it’s you.”

“Oh, it’s not just that. Someone stole my new purse. I’d just bought it. With my money. And I don’t know. It was empty.” You sigh. “Tom, I feel petty.” You hear a snort, and grumble. “Less of that. I have a pretty good life.”

“We all feel down, baby.” A kiss is placed to your ear, and you smile. “Come on. I’ll make food. And then we can cuddle all night, sweetheart. No need for anything to interrupt.” You look up, and his blue eyes bring peace to your soul, at least for a moment. “Now, stay there.” You close your eyes, relaxing back into the cushion, and feel a hand swat at your ass.

“Hey!”


End file.
